


And miles to go before I sleep

by CassieD



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Christmas, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, James Potter is a Good Friend, Jealous Sirius Black, Jealousy, M/M, Marauders, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Sirius Black Needs a Hug, The Prank, Walburga Black's A+ Parenting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:28:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26792908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CassieD/pseuds/CassieD
Summary: Being disowned was bad enough. But getting on Remus bad side? That was a whole new level of torture. And he knew he deserved every second of it.__________Sirius hated this.Ariadne was cool. Gryffindor's prized seeker and one of the brightest of their year.And if that wasn't enough, her hair was long and dark and she towered over Sirius, standing about an inch taller than his 5"11 (unless he was in his Doc Martens). She looked downright intimidating. Intimidatingly beautiful.Sirius didn't have to think too far to get what Remus saw in her.
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black & James Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 6
Kudos: 43





	1. A nightmare before Christmas

Letters from home were horrible. It wasn't that Sirius expected anything else from Walburga- any fleeting illusion of hope he had had been burned down to ash until there was no corpse of it to kick back in the summer after second year. And that was only because Sirius was stubborn and loyal enough to not completely lose any hope by first year. No wonder his animagus was a dog. 

It didn't matter how many times he had been yelled at or slapped at and punished before. Walburga Black always found a way to surprise him in the worst way possible.

It wasn't enough how she had kept screaming at him with her deranged, burning voice to finally act up or how she had disowned him. It wasn't enough. She absolutely needed to send him a cold, passive aggressive reminder the doors to The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black were shut closed to him. She just had to. Walburga felt the need to remind him, as if she was the one to kick him out- like he hadn't willingly run away from them like the black plague they were the first chance he got.

It was only a few months ago he had run away to spend the summer at the Potters' house, and he still regretred stopping by 12 Grimmauld to pick some of his clothes up. His mother had been so enraged with him when she caught him midway down the stairs wearing muggle clothes and with a bag slung over his shoulder, she had burned him off the family tapestry and slapped him right across the face after a rather short and violent verbal fight.

This woman could really pack a slap, alright. All those cloddish rings helped too. The mere force of it made the echoes of her screeching voice ring to his ears for a few seconds as they stood facing each other in silence. The whole thing was in a steel chest, buried deep into the catacombs of his brain and Sirius would not dare go anywhere near it, even with a ten foot staff. The words said, the cold sting of his mother's ring on his cheek, the black magic he felt in the marrow of his bones-in his cursed blood and the roots of his hair and in every part of his body as Walburga burned him off of the tapestry. Sirius did his best to avoid the memory of it.

"Promise you'll write to me you mutt," James said between laughs, his voice coming out breathless and short as he focused on giving a struggling Sirius a noogie, messing up his black hair until it was a static mess of soft tufts when he finally managed to escape.

James's hazel eyes were bright and awake, even at the fucking shit-knows-when in the morning and his energy was contagious. At least to most people.

"Aw Prongs," Sirius huffed out as he jumped at James and got him in a headlock, returning the  
favor. "Here, I'll help you do that thing you do, when Evans walks by," he said and ruffled James's hair harshly, messing up the little effort he had put in styling it earlier that morning.

The other students walked by them without a second glance, struggling to carry all of their stuff and their trolleys while wearing so many heavy layers in the cold- including Lily Evans. Sirius nodded at her and she reluctantly waved with a green gloved hand, shaking her head at their antics and at an oblivious James, who couldn't see a thing as he was struggling to escape. Sirius was starting to get worried; his face was becoming red and his thrashing was a tad bit too frantic for comfort.

"Gugh!" James yelled and finally threw Sirius off him, his glasses askew and his hair looking almost as bad as the time he decided he needed to style it in order to woo Evans. Perhaps some would start by using conditioner or purchasing a brush, but James's ingenious plan was mixing as many of Fleamont Potter's hair potions he could find around the house, until a vile brownish gel emerged from his cauldron. His immaculate hair styling technique consisted of taking a big glob of the foul-smelling mixture and smearing it on his head. It took a few days for his hair to stop growing after that and a few more for the smell to stop lingering. 

Evans was not impressed, strangely enough. 

"You don't have to be so jealous of my beautiful mane, Pads. I know I'm a lion," James said a little too loudly and then proceeded trying out his best roar. He was in the middle of it, hands clawing at air, when he finally caught Evans in the corner of his eye, standing unamused a few feet in front of them.

James flushed and scrambled to straighten the excessive wrinkling in his robes to no avail, sending Evans a timid (for his standards) wave. The girl pointedly looked upwards as if struggling to cope with the secondhand embarrassment- Sirius guessed- and gave James a withering look. James raised a hand up to his head out of habit, to do his usual obnoxious messing up (Remus had informed them it was probably a nervous mechanism when Sirius and Pete had made fun of him for it) but stopped midway through it and threw Sirius, who was laughing hysterically, a nasty look. 

Peter had left two days earlier by floo, when he had a panic attack (which was more than partially staged) and was already at home for Christmas. Sirius woke up early and didn't even have to think much of it before he was helping James pack by hand, neither of them having the heart to spell everything to James's trunk out of fear of waking up (or getting anything to hit) a tired snoring Remus that was curled up in his bed. 

They had attempted clumsily stuffing everything in James's suitcase a total of three times, rearranging the mass of unfolded clothes (and dirty socks) to fit, but the stupid thing refused to shut closed no matter how many times they both sat on it and jumped up and down, so they had to sit down and fold everything-including those nasty socks- carefully. It was horrible.

"Ugh, I can't believe she'll be there this year," James grumbled for the thousandth time in that month, any embarrassment from before forgotten, as he dragged his trolley behind him and kicked at a pebble. "The old bint just couldn't go into another gambling spree with oh-so-dear Uncle Frixus," he said the name with a mocking, high-pitched old lady voice.

"Hm," Sirius hummed in agreement, putting his freezing hands in the pockets of his coat in hopes of bringing life back to them. James kept talking, and his words flew over Sirius's head like something unimportant going on in his peripherals. He was aware of James waving his arms around as he continued his monologue, dragging his trunk angrily. 

James kicked that pebble so hard it flew off out of sight as he went on. "And it's not like my mom has ever done anything to her, she's just being an old bi- hey, are you listening to me?"

"Wait, what?" Sirius came back to his senses as James pinned him with an inquisitive look. 

James sighed and shook his head. "Sirius, I swear, you'll walk into a wall one of these days. You keep zoning out on me."

Oh. "Sorry man, it's just really early," he lied, frustrated and guilty at the same time.

Truth was, James had already complained, talked and grumbled about his evil grandma (who chain-smoked two packets a day) coming over for Christmas enough times for Sirius to be unable to fake a proper reaction. James had been on a constant loop of whining over his Grandma being the Grinch whenever he wasn't talking about Evans and Sirius could only hum and nod at him after all those weeks.

He tried to pay attention as James kept going.

"She called me malnourished!" James gasped dramatically, finding another unlucky pebble in front of him and kicking it the same way he had to its fallen comrade. 

Sirius was scared. Staying at Hogwarts without James was not something he looked forward to. He had sort of tried to ignore it the weeks previous to this day, and now that they were at the station, he had a hard time coming to terms with it actually happening. 

It wasn't like James hadn't invited him. James had asked him, somewhere between a heated monologue about not wanting to wear that jumper his grandma had bought him (that was three sizes too big but she insisted he'd grow into if his mother finally fed him right), if he would like joining him for Christmas. It was random and absent-minded and Sirius doubted he really meant it, so he had declined against all of his will. He had already delayed his stay all summer. There was no way the Potters would be okay with him coming over for Christmas too. He didn't want to give them the idea he wanted to leech on them and outstay his welcome.

Perhaps this should be a really good time to tell James about the letter. He wanted to. He had tried bringing it up, but somehow, James was either mid-rant or snoring with a line of drool dribbling down his chin whenever Sirius gathered the courage to mention it. He hadn't told anyone else- he had tried telling Peter once, out of desperation, but the conversation had quickly come to an abrupt stop when Peter put a palm up and squealed, "Not now, Sirius, Jones just told me that two 7th year girls are snogging in the common room, bye!" and them ran out of the room, falling over his own feet.

It was comical, how Peter had slipped and stumbled like a fleeing rat in his haste to get downstairs, and Sirius should have laughed, but the apathy had found its way into him. It just wouldn't go away. The small breeze of confidence was carried away like a feather in a storm, any fleeting will to open up escaping him like the air out of a sad little balloon.

"Hey," he tried getting James's attention, who was currently getting to the part where his grandma attempted spelling his hair flat when he had his back to her. Sirius could recite that part in his sleep.

"And then I was- what?" James stopped and cast his eyes at Sirius, a little confused at being cut off. He cleared his throat and crossed his arms, the sign that meant he was giving his attention to Sirius. He had stopped talking about his grandma, but the lightweight familiar energy in the air was still there, a stark contrast to the heaviness in the words Sirius wanted to get out for weeks. 

"You okay man?" His thick eyebrows softly furrowed, a hand coming up to push his square rimmed glasses up.

"Um," he murmured helplessly, the expectant earnest look behind those glasses making the inside of his mouth clog up.  
Only a few words, and James would figure out something was up, sober up and start worrying his head. James was a good friend; he tried his best. But he...sometimes it seemed as if they were miles apart.

Sirius, disowned, shunned and alone, had nowhere to go. His own mother, the coldest, most heartless woman Sirius knew not only had violently burned his name off of the family taper, but had sent him a letter to remind him right before Christmas, telling him he wasn't welcome and that she was well aware that no one would want him in their house either. His own brother avoided him like he was some disease. And he had completely fucked up his friendship with Remus beyond repair. 

James one the other hand, was winded up over Lily not wanting to date him and his annoying (and admittedly tyrannical) grandma having to stay at his house for Christmas, but he still had a warm house with two parents who loved him and would pull apart crackers with him on Christmas day and try to fatten him up with Christmas food and ask him about school.

Sirius was envious. Of James. But also fiercely protective of him at the same time, because James deserved those things. And maybe Sirius didn't.

James deserved to spend his Christmas happy and seeking various types of Zonko's merchandise to put in his Grandma's drink. James deserved to think Sirius was content and still on great terms with Remus and that his friend group was safe and strong and definitely not falling apart. James didn't deserve to feel guilty or burdened by Sirius.

Sirius knew what he had to do.

"I'm great, Prongs, you just have something stuck on your front teeth," Sirius lied and felt the corners of his lips mechanically tug upwards at James's horrified expression.

"What!? Oh no!" He wailed from behind his palm, covering his mouth. "Wait...Do you think Lily saw that? Shit!" James scrambled to poke at his mouth, rubbing a finger on his (perfectly white and spotless) teeth. Sirius smiled, ignoring the pang in his chest. There it was; that should be the biggest of James's problems. 

"It's gone," Sirius said and James stopped, sighing in relief. 

The train was only a few feet ahead of them now. James paused and turned to him, a hint of somberness making its way into his features. "Take care of Moony, alright?" 

Sirius felt himself nod as he fiddled with the end of his jumper. How ironic. Remus, werewolf Remus who turned into a slavering, bloodthirsty beast that tore itself into pieces every month was in fact not the one needing any help. Sirius was the obviously the weak one.

"Sure," he cleared his throat and looked away from James's earnest eyes. Sirius was completely useless and James should have known by now. He couldn't even keep a secret to save Remus's life, much less help him. Completely ironic, that's what it was. Tragically so. 

James didn't notice. His nose twitched and his mouth closed into a thoughtful frown and Sirius could somehow hear the unsaid words threatening to escape him. He silently begged for them. 

James would invite him to the Potters' and Sirius would say yes. Maybe Grandma Felucia hated him and they'd have to go and pack his stuff and take the Knight bus because they'd lose the train if James agreed, but Mrs Jolene would hug them both and Mr Fleamont would pat him on the back and call him 'son' once they got there, and maybe Sirius could just get in the train right now and wouldn't need to pack anyway because they'd all end up wearing those silly Christmas sweaters-

James hesitated. He opened his mouth to sa-

"You're in the way, Potter!" Marlene bumped him, carrying a huge suitcase along with her trolley, struggling to get in the door.

"Bugger off, McKinnon," James yelled, the words ready to slip from his mouth forgotten and the frown replaced by a surprised laugh as he helped her by taking the suitcase and carrying it for her. 

Sirius finally managed to give him the tightest of smiles, waving before turning his back and taking the long walk back to the castle, his lips dropping the moment he turned his back on them.

He was a few steps away when he heard the train take off and he couldn't control himself. Sirius turned around and watched it leave, all alone in the station, everything still except that stray piece of parchment the cold wind dragged around. This time, he made no effort to smile.

…..

"Good morning," Sirius said and sat on the Gryffindor table, which was almost empty with more than half of the Gryffindors freshly gone for the holidays. There were a few murmurs of people saying it back. Remus hummed a reply, not raising his eyes from his book. 

That's how it went for quite some time now. Remus would sit all calm and in that proper way of his on the breakfast table, with his smile and his brilliant voice and tawny hair softly grazing his forehead. And Sirius would be there too. On the outside looking in.

Sirius fidgeted and looked at the table. Golden hued toast, sausages, crispy bacon and a good amount of Christmas pastries were all carefully laid out on the table by the elves, huge amounts of food right in front of him.

He wasn't hungry. 

He looked around the table, but he eventually stopped the pretense. His eyes found their way to Remus, as they usually ended up doing. Only then realizing how close they were seated-in a mostly empty table- when he came face to face with Remus's side profile. Staring at him had been much easier when there was a thick barrier of people laughing and taking around them.

The silence made him freeze in his seat.

"James left this morning," he said and the words came out sounding dry and weird. He regretted saying anything, but at the same time he felt compelled to do so, like a truth potion was in his system, and the words escaped then without his will.

Remus didn't notice; his eyes were still on his book as he slowly flipped a page and asked in the most uninterested way, "Really?"

Sirius nervously cleared his throat, quickly grabbing a piece of toast more of a need to do something with his hands than from hunger he should be feeling. Talking to Remus was like talking to a wall. "Um, yes," he said, sliding the butter knife across his toast. "He will be back when school begins."

Remus finally raised his eyes from his book, but instead of opening his mouth to say something like Sirius hoped he would, he looked strangely at the toast Sirius was unconsciously still buttering. He cleared his throat and a soft brown eyebrow arched...

Sirius stopped and looked down, realizing he had forgotten to put anything on his butterknife and had been rubbing a clean knife on his toast like a total idiot.

He chuckled awkwardly, feeling his heartbeat race.

There was the sound of Remus turning a page and then he was humming in that calm way of his again, the vibrations coming straight through his chest, but it lacked its usual warmth. Sirius was left scrambling with the awkwardness himself.

Remus was a wall. Like he hoped that if he stared at his book hard enough, Sirius would disappear and go away. Walburga could do something- talk to someone, read a book, work or do absolutely nothing with Sirius attached to her leg, clutching and pulling at the end of her robes for hours to no end.

Mom. Mom. Mom. Can I tell you something? Mother. Look. Look. I found this for you. Mom. I made this. Mom. Look. Mom. Mom. I wanna go home now.

Sirius looked at the toast in his plate and then at the bacon in front of him. He inhaled the fat heady smell of the bacon and the sweet fruity scent of the pastries arranged on a tray next to it. They smelled delicious. It was sickening.

Remus flipped another page of his book. 

Sirius excused himself.


	2. Xenophilius Lovegood: Hippie Lunacy Extraoridinaire

Friends were a good thing to have. They just made everything better; train rides, class, Quidditch, Hogsmeade visits and so in. Of course friends were good to have around when something really important happened too, but it was mostly the small things. Like them waiting with you in line, or them whispering to you in class when a teacher said something questionable and things like this.

When you have friends with you, you rarely get approached by people. Which wasn't necessarily a good thing, but when you're alone outside in the middle of December, leaning against a deserted wall and staring into nothing, you're a weirdo. And weirdos only attract other weirdos.Xenophilius Lovegood made Sirius look perfectly sane. Heck, he could make Bellatrix Black and all of his extended 'family' look sane. If he could really call it extended, considering how... closely related the Blacks were. 

Xenophilius Lovegood annoyed the crap out of him. He had this whole hippie love peace shite thing going on and Sirius couldn't stand it. The guy looked like an Abba poster had prematurely ejaculated on him.

"Wow. Can I take your jacket?" He had said out of the blue as he stood next to Sirius.

Trust Lovegood to randomly pop up in the castle's courtyard during the middle of December and happen to walk into the same wall Sirius had been occupying with his back. Yes, Lovegood did walk into the wall. Sirius wasn't even surprised by the fact. 

"No," Sirius sneered at him, protectively wrapping his arms around the said jacket, gloved hands grazing the black leather almost fondly.

He had come here to stop thinking. Outside was the only place where there were no portraits singing carols or cloddish suits of armors dancing to them. The portraits sang in various styles depending on which was the one singing, but a lot of them either sang in creepy operatic voices and the other, arguably bigger part sang carols like they were Irish drinking songs. 

And then there was Peeves, who had taken to singing carols in his own personal style...

Sirius couldn't shake off the melancholy that came with the jolliness of it all. He never really had a happy Christmas in his life and if he did it never lasted long. 

The only time he had come close to, was last year, when Remus had stayed back with him and they had spent everyday together; babbling about everything and nothing at the same time during meals and spending their evenings drinking hot cocoa and sitting in front of the fire playing Monopoly. Sirius lost nearly every single game. He was grinning from ear to ear through each one.

Of course, everything had turned for the worse when the full moon fell on Christmas day and Remus was injured severely and Sirius spent his Christmas by Remus's hospital bed, but the days prior to that would always hold a special place in Sirius's heart. Even though they caused his chest to ache whenever he thought of them the last couple of weeks. Remembering it somehow hurt worse now that he knew it was precisely one year away.

He imagined what it would be like for James this year. 

He could easily James playing in the snow with those little cousins he always complained about, getting pelted by snow and then unfairly using magic to win against all those children like the juvenile idiot he was.He could see James helping his parents set the table, Mrs Jolene and James bumping each other secretly every time Grandma Felucia said something annoying or interesting. 

Yes, James could bump his mother with his elbow and silently laugh with her at family members they disliked. The idea of Sirius being like that with Walburga at any place, time or alternate reality was the single most odd thing his mind had ever come up with. Oddest than Xenophilius Lovegood wanting to steal his jacket, even. 

"Okay," Xenophilius said. And proceeded staring at him. Weirdly. A minute went by like this. Sirius must have had a hell of a profile, because the guy just kept staring at him like he was trying to solve some sort of puzzle. 

Ugh. Why couldn't a guy just lean against a (freezing) wall and reflect on his life or whatever it was that temporary loners did, without being interrupted by the weirdest kid in the castle? Being a part-time loner must have been exhausting. No wonder Snivellus was always so prissy. Couldn't Sirius just suck it up and go back to the castle? One one hand there was weird hippie that wanted to steal his prized leather jacket in the freezing cold and in the other there were jolly Christmas songs and warmth. 

He sighed, tilting his head to look at the dark grey sky. "What is it?"

Xenophilius eyed the jacket again but raised his hands up in surrender when Sirius narrowed his eyes in warning."Nothing. I was just thinking of asking Lucy Summers out."

Sirius leaned his head against the wall and rolled his eyes. Xenophilius didn't notice. "That's great."

Lucy Summers was everything her name told you she'd be. Another hippie, blonde and always smiling annoyingly no matter what, and as Peter had put it "with tits twice the size of her own head." 

One time, it was May and they were walking out of a corridor when James suspiciously walked into a suit of armor when they came across her wearing a tank top. Xenophilius wouldn't have a big problem attracting her; the smell of weed he was drenched in could attract Lucy Summers from the other side of the castle like the tapping of a spoon on a can would to a cat.

"She's beautiful," Xenophilius, honest to god sighed, like a love-stricken maiden. It sounded so... Disgusting. His voice cracked mid-sigh. "She's a wood nymph."

"Yes, of course she is," Sirius said, his patience running thin. There was a 50% chance that Lovegood thought his crush to actually be a woodnymph and Sirius didn't have the strength to endure hearing that theory out loud.

"You know, she really brings out the artist in me. I could write a sonnet!"

Sirius contemplated banging his head against the wall and ending it all. Could someone use the A.K. on themselves? Someone must have tried it at one point or another. If not; Sirius could easily volunteer.

"I was sitting right here in this place the other day and I was watching the sunset and-"

"Brilliant," Sirius tried to stop him, but Xenophilius didn't get the hint. Weirdos never really did.

"-i thought of her. You see I wrote this poem. Wanna hear it?"

Sirius sighed and opened his mouth to decline but he was a bit too late.

Lovegood (what kind of hippie ass name was that) cleared his throat and puffed his chest up and Sirius thought he'd cast a Sonorus on himself for a second there. He didn't.

"Nature's first green is gold, her hardest hue to hold."

"Her early leaf's a flower, but only so an hour."

"Wait- isn't that the poem from the Outsiders?"

Lovegood had the nerve to look affronted. "Excuse me?"

"You know. That muggle book?" Sirius elaborated, pinning him with the most unamused look he could muster. "The Outsiders?"

"Rufus Salamander's works are so outdated, I don't even know why you'd know that book. The whole thing was so foolish- Ponyboy was definitely a horse."

Sirius blinked. Several times.

He pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I already know that poem, you disastrous wanker."

Sirius waited for him to get mad and defensive; what liars usually do when you call them out. It's sort of their thing. Sirius was pretty sure that some of them were so good at lying-about everything and for no reason- they got to the point where they believed their own lies and actually, really and honestly got mad when people called them out.

He knew that arguing with them or even talking with them about it was pointless. Yet he couldn't just not get mad. 

Some would argue that that made him just as insane as them.

Xenophilius just scoffed at him. "I'd make you see reason, but it's obvious the Nargles have gotten into you."

"The what, now?"

Lovegood raised his eyebrows at Sirius, as if he had just asked the obvious. "Nargles. School's basically full of them now with all that mistletoe hanging around. I can't believe you haven't taken notice of them; they've even infected you."

Sirius gaped at him. God, he knew the kid was a raving lunatic of some sort, but that exceeded any expectation. Nargles was an ancient old witches tale that existed to scare children into behaving.

Sirius absolutely despised when people couldn't be reasoned with. Remus could spend hours kindly smiling and nodding along at whatever crazy ass thing any nutter would tell him and go along with it, but Sirius couldn't even try to save his life. Not being able to reason with someone even a little made his shoulders tense and his reflexes sharpen for some strange reason he couldn't really explain.

Going crazy was his worst fear ever. 

Sirius was aware of Lovegood shuffling around and he gathered from his peripherals that he was pulling something out of his coat. 

"Here," he put something in front of Sirius's face. Sirius jolted back, ready to sock Lovegood right in the face if he tried anything. "this will help drive them away."

It was a cigarette. A very weird looking cigarette that was big and wobbly and it also smelled off and- oh.

Was that…? Sirius stared at it with wide eyes, frozen to the spot. He had only half-believed Xenophilius to be an actual stoner: he mostly took him for someone who pretended to be for attention. Weed had never been an actually real thing to Sirius because he'd never seen it.   
It was something like the television; Sirius knew it existed and it was apparently a box muggles used to watch things, but it might as well never have existed for Sirius.

Sirius had never put much thought into weed before- if weed was a taboo in the muggle world, in the Wizarding world it was a straight up crime. He knew that most of the rumors were only a lie: weed wasn't to blame for Lovegood's absurdness; it ran in the family.

Weed was probably different from alcohol. Peter had told them his muggle cousin was kind of a stoner and he had admitted to Pete that it was like everything was numbed but he sort of had some control. Sirius wanted that. He was tired of the horrible feeling that wove it's way into his chest whenever he saw Mistletoe and Christmas trees. He wanted to get rid of the urge to destroy things whenever he listened to the portraits singing about Christmas and the urge to climb on Remus's lap and be held until everything was better.

He hesitantly grabbed the joint. Lovegood had already lit up his own and was inhaling the smoke like a champ.

Sirius watched as the end of his own joint got bright orange as he lit it with his wand. He tried to mimic Lovegood but he didn't really know how he did it. It looked easy. Too proud and stubborn to ask, he inhaled, hollowing his cheeks.

The minute the smoke grazed the inside of his lungs Sirius started coughing violently, his palm hitting his chest as he spluttered for air.

He could hear Lovegood's laughter next to him as he struggled to stop coughing.

There really wasn't any numbing sensation going on; the laughter sounded just as annoying as it always did and Sirius wanted to punch Lovegood even more so than before. Maybe the weed didn't get into his lungs or something, since he coughed it all up like a girl. 

The idea of inhaling the smoke again sounded scary, but he sucked it up, narrowing his eyes at Lovegood before inhaling once again. The air went through his lungs much easier this time, a drastic difference from the forceful invasion from before. 

He felt nothing, though.

He did it again. 

He still felt nothing- no numbing sensation, not any urge to laugh. In fact, he was getting more and more pissed off and frustrated as the seconds went by and felt ridiculous, furiously smoking the joint to no avail.

"Smoking mistletoe can help get rid of the Nargles. Cornelius Fuzzyfoot has mentioned it time and time again in his works, since-"

"Wait, wait, wait. What!?"

Lovegood jumped back as Sirius hurled at him and grabbed him by the collar, wide eyes blinking at Sirius in shock and bewilderment. Which he didn't do very often. Here's the thing with idiots; they never got confused because they thought it wasn't worth their time- they obviously knew everything. Sirius wanted to whack him upside the head and then shake him until the light found its way in his head. He felt his jaw clench as he let him go, pushing him away before putting his hand up to his forehead, his fingers pinched.

"Mistletoe can help with the Nargl-"

"MISTLETOE IS POISONOUS YOU GORMLESS HIPPIE!"

The tosser had the gall to look affronted, as if Sirius had just told him something completely idiotic or even offensive, straightening the wrinkles around his collar and brushing his hair with his fingers. "Well, about that-"

"And why the hell do you smell so shady if you only smoke mistletoe?" 

Xenophilius smiled and preened, straightening his posture like a proud rooster. Sirius had to physically restrain himself from murdering him on the spot. "Oh. it's my new cologne," he patted his chest proudly. "Bought it from Zonko's. Didn't really know they sold colognes there, but here's no way Lucy Summers won't be after me like a moth to flame if I smell like this."

More like a fly to dung. But nevertheless, inequivalent metaphors aside, it was probably the only true thing Lovegood had uttered in months. "I'm not sure why, but a lot of ladies seem to really like this cologne."

Sirius groaned into his hands before turning on his heels and furiously walking away, ignoring Xenophilius asking him where he was going, he thick layer of snow frustratingly slowing him down.

How fast did the poison take effect? Was it a quick thing, or something that took hours? Why the hell didn't Lovegood react to it?

He didn't even bother to shake off the snow from his boots when he entered the castle. 

He was still fuming by the time he made it into the hospital wing and slightly nauseous. God, what had he been thinking when he said yes to drugs from Xenophilius Lovegood, Hippie lunacy Extraoridinaire?

He'd read about how Mistletoe was toxic back in first or second year. He faintly remembered Slughorn saying something about vomiting. 

It couldn't be that bad, right?

All he had to do was go to Pomfrey's and probably get spelled well by a basic antidote spell. Pomfrey thankfully never asked questions or ratted on you; Sirius appreciated her greatly for it. Sirius showing up and declaring he had accidentally smoked mistletoe wouldn't even get her expression to change.

Everything would be fine.

The notice on the wall was written in big bold letters and Sirius stared at it longer than he'd need to in order to read the three lines.

Pomfrey had gotten a Christmas leave- for a whole week. He was supposed to turn for assistance to a teacher if anything happened.

Like Professor McGonagall. Or the headmaster.

As if. 

Sirius wasn't born yesterday; one word to good old Dumbles or Minnie and they'd immediately write to his mother. Or worse; the Potters. He felt his heart fly from his chest and his palms clam with sweat at the thought of it ever happening. No way he was letting this happen. Ever. 

Everyone was lying or simply didn't know better when they said the Potters viewed him as a second son. Dumbledore and McGonagall just took James's word for it and James was only saying it to make Sirius feel better because in his naive, never-been-broken heart everything was as simple as that.  
Because James never had to work and try and beg to be loved by his parents. James loved openly and easily and the idea of everyone else doing anything but was just outside of his world. He honestly believed that Sirius could just stay one summer at his house and he was suddenly family to the Potters. 

If James got caught smoking weed, his parents would be angry and disappointed but most of all hurt and worried. If Sirius got caught smoking, James's parents would only be angry and disappointed. And worried, but only over him being a bad influence to James.

Pity, disappointment and betrayed/dissapointed looks from the Potters and McGonagall were not something that he wanted. Not after the prank. They were old fashioned, she and the Potters. They thought some things to be more severe than they were and Sirius could do nothing about it.

Sirius couldn't stay at one place. He started walking, not caring where he'd end up going. 

"Hark the Herald Angels sing! Glory to the disowned heir!"

Bloody Peeves. He had such a horrible off key voice and no matter how much Sirius could appreciate a fellow prankster, Peeves was a poltergeist. They were never not in the mood to cause mischief and their sense of human decency was that worse than a child's. It's funny to be pelted with petty insults (or corporeal things like water) when you're getting out of an exceptionally boring class with your friends, but not when you think you've been poisoned by Xenophilius Lovegood and the insults are about your mother disowning you.

"Peace in Earth and Mercy mild

Oh Si-ri-us you're now an abandoned child!"

"Fuck off!" Sirius grabbed a book out of his bag and furiously hurled it at the Poltergeist. It hit the hard stone wall Peeves disappeared through, laughing hysterically. 

Sirius felt himself relax but then the Poltergeist's head popped through the wall one last time to blow an obnoxious raspberry at Sirius and give him a rather rude hand gesture. 

Sirius scowled as he went to pick his book up from the now empty corner. He took a second to kick at the stone wall before leaning his back against it and slumping on the floor.

As much as he'd love to just sit there and maybe not get up or do anything for a few hours, he knew he had to do something about the poisoning. He pulled his wand out and summoned the book he knew Remus had on his bedside, the one on healing infections. He hopefully wouldn't notice it was gone. The moon was only half full so any injuries he obtained from the full must have been healed by now and if he did, Sirius hoped he wouldn't ask any questions.  
The hard brown leather was cold on his hands, but he was nonetheless thankfully for it.

He felt himself relax when he found the right page after a few moments of flipping through the section of infections and poisoning.

A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons.

Good enough for Sirius. He was almost sure that Slughorn kept one of those around in his cupboard at the dungeons. 

Sighing, Sirius got up and left for the stairs, fiddling with the lock-picking knife he conveniently kept in his pocket at all times.

Bezoars. Bless god for small mercies. 


End file.
